Mad Season
by EarnestInBerlin
Summary: And the best you could do was break his favorite cup to pieces.


I would like to dedicate this to Kanetsuki-chan, talking with you helps me write. I'm so happy to have you as my friend.

I hope you like this!

**Mad Season**

I feel stupid,

But I know it won't last for long

-Mad Season, Matchbox Twenty

**(SPACE HERE)**

_It was a crowded place._

_A man pointed his gun at Yuki's face, screaming at him._

_Yuki smiled his deadly grin, the one that made most people forget he was the guy who wrote the country's most romantic novels…_

… _Making them think that they were facing a madman instead._

When you placed your hand on his bleeding head, you felt the disgusting mixture of the crimson liquid and his hair. Your hands were shaking when you let it brush through his beautiful locks, wet with _fresh_ blood.

And somehow you still can't believe why he did this.

_I did this all for you Yuki Eiri._

There was that voice looming inside your head as you let your hand carry his fragile face close to your chest. Your other arm ties behind his back to keep his body warm- his temperature was going down to deadly zero. And you let yourself believe that if you hold him close and with more passion this time, you could keep him warm so that he can snap out of his daze. And then hope that he could jump back to life with his crazy talk of love then show the lyrics that he made the other day.

The ones on the floor, littered around you, all dirty with something that tastes metallic.

With something fresh

With something red

With something like blood

You look at his open eyes again and disbelief was written in your features. This was the first time in years that feeling thumped your heart and washed your face. His orbs were glaring at you wide in shock, his mouth hanging open with a trickle of red feeling its way out. For some reason, you could almost hear him say it again.

_I did this all for you Yuki Eiri._

From his face, you go down to the delicate body that belonged to him alone. This was the superstar whom you just called an idiot a few hours ago. You looked at the 'ultra-cool' t-shirt he's wearing, all stained with passing of life to the other stage.

Then you let your eyes linger to the long thin legs that he used to run away with, to follow you around with. They were now all useless, just lying flat as the rest of him is.

You held him closer.

It's not yet over; you pulled his face closer and told this to his ear. Your voice was sympathetic and filled with passion that he never knew you were capable of when he was still alive.

People were screaming around you, you just didn't hear them the first time.

"Shut up!" you screamed.

_Yuki thought he was like all the rest, that if he throws his look of pure insanity at this man; he could scare him enough to make him piss his pants._

_He was like the rest; he could see the fingers shake. He could even see the creases of fear forming in his face. _

_His hands were breaking._

_And he thought he was going to die._

"_YUKI! WATCH OUT!"_

The sound of an ambulance was in the air, there were even the many police cars that blared their sirens. But you were too busy trying to remember why the boy did this to you.

Correction

Did this for you

You didn't even realize that you were crying when the words that were left unsaid only escaped your mouth for deaf ears to hear.

**(SPACE HERE)**

Hiro is mad at you. He pushes you to the nearest wall and he starts trying to break you to pieces. You let him destroy your ribs, let him jab at your face; let him shatter your face.

You didn't even bother fighting back. You let him hit you again and again even though you know that you might not be able to finish that novel you have been writing. The both of you were fighting the one-sided battle.

You were spitting blood by the time the raven-haired boy stopped, backing away with his own sorrow digging deep in his chest and cracking his ribs with the pain of losing his one best friend.

He fell to the floor his back kissing the wall while he dipped his face on his sweat and tear covered hands.

You look at his pathetic form from where you stand and the door swung open to let the others inside. They wanted to save you from Hiro, but they were too late and the damage has been done. All they see now are two people broken.

One from the lost of a friend

The other still denying that he lost his lover.

**(SPACE HERE)**

When you went home today, you were expecting the smell of burnt dinner floating across the air. You were expecting the panicked screams of the boy you love to break the silence of your house.

All that you have is the silence, no smell of ashes or the screeching of singers to annoy you today.

Or the next day

Or the day after that

Not even next Monday or the next week.

Never again

You walk on the impeccably clean floor of your house. There were no Ryuichi DVDs on the floor you noticed.

You never knew why you noticed that now.

**(SPACE HERE)**

There you are in the kitchen, all alone the smell of coffee not strong enough to break you from your misery.

You didn't even bother to stop and look at the cup you were using.

It was a bright orange cup with a smiley that had a flower on its shaven head. There was supposed to be two handles, but the left one broke. You remember throwing this away at the… his direction when you were drunk with rage.

He was just trying to help you out of your stoned period.

And the best you could do was break his favorite cup to pieces.

**(SPACE HERE)**

A/N: I'm sorry if this seems a bit rushed- and cliché to boot- but I really wanted to write something like this forever!


End file.
